


Nothing's Going On (and that's the problem)

by briegretful



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy Whump, Number Five | The Boy has PTSD, Number Five | The Boy-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25811029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briegretful/pseuds/briegretful
Summary: (Directly after the season 2 ending, except everything's normal and everyone's still around)He did it. Five saved his family. They landed in 2019 and everything, somehow, worked out.He's not sure how to deal with that.orFive struggles to deal with not having an apocalypse to stop, and his family tries to help him.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Allison Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Ben Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Luther Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone
Comments: 29
Kudos: 982





	Nothing's Going On (and that's the problem)

They did it. He did it. 

Five takes another sip of his drink, his gaze flitting between each of his siblings. Klaus is telling some story about his cult, going into overt detail about something Five has managed to tune out so far. Allison wrinkles her nose in disgust, but her eyes crinkle with barely concealed laughter. Even Diego and Luther -- despite their frequent protests at Klaus’s level of detail -- laugh along. Smiling softly, Vanya watches Klaus as he gestures wildly, and Five thinks this is the most relaxed he’s seen her since he came back. 

It’s good. She deserves it.

They all do.

A warmth has spread itself throughout Five’s body. He’d like to blame it on the alcohol, but he knows that’s only a small part. This is what he’s been fighting for. What he’s been working towards.

But he’d never expected this. Even when the briefcase worked, even when they appeared at home, all of them, in 2019 -- he thought something had to be wrong. Even when they clustered around the bar in the Umbrella Academy, laughing, celebrating, he thought something would happen. 

But it didn’t.

“Oh god, Klaus, shut up.” Diego groans, his hand swatting down Klaus’. “None of us needed to know any of that.”

Klaus pouts, but Five misses his retort as the room spins.

He blinks at Diego’s face peering at him. “You good?”

“M’great” Five mumbles, an unfamiliar expression pulling at his face.

“Aww, is the lil’ tyke drunk?” Klaus leans across the bar, shoving into Diego’s space to inspect Five.

“Call me that again, and I’ll-” Five struggles for a second, his brain blanking - “... kill you,” he finishes lamely.

“Drunk as a skunk,” Diego confirms. 

Luther frowns, his brow furrowing in that concerned, responsible I’m-Number-One sort of way. “Should we really be letting him drink so much? He’s thirteen-”

“I am 28 years older than you, you overgrown-”

“Let him drink,” Vanya cuts in, and it’s a testament to how much things have changed that she cut someone off at all. She meets his gaze with a small, genuine smile. “He just averted the apocalypse twice. He deserves it.”

He snorts. “You’re damn right I do.” 

“Here, here,” Klaus says, tipping his glass towards Five. “But as I was saying…”

Luther groans, putting his head in his oversized hands.

And Five smiles. 

\---

The headache in the morning is not a surprise. Five’s been hungover before. He still remembers the first time he got drunk in the apocalypse. Remembers gagging down a bottle of scotch and washing it down with equally disgusting wine. 

Not his best moment, but it wouldn’t be the last time he drank too much. Still, every time, he pulled himself out of bed -- or wherever he ended up passing out-- and threw himself into his work. The apocalypse wouldn’t solve itself. 

But this time, there was nothing to throw himself into.

Five groans, rolling over onto his back, and blinks blearily at the ceiling. He rubs the crust from his eyes. The clock flashes 11:23 AM at him in angry red light. There’s clanging echoing from downstairs, punctuated by muffled yelling -- Diego and Klaus he guesses, making breakfast. 

His headache pounds, and he thinks he should blink downstairs and grab a coffee, even if it is pitifully brewed.

But he’s tired. His body feels heavy, his mind thick and clouded. He imagines getting up, dressing, going downstairs and running into his siblings. 

Luther probably carried him upstairs, Five muses, and recalls a vague memory of being carried by Luther the last time he was drunk too. He should feel embarrassed, but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t feel much of anything.

The ceiling stares back at him.

He closes his eyes.

\---

It’s not until the 2nd day that Diego realizes something might be wrong. As far as he’d seen, Five couldn’t hold his liquor in the best of cases, so if Diego didn’t think too much about Five's absence, well, sue him. 

Diego had always thought of Five as a bit of a ass. He remembers back when he was younger and still stuttering through every sentence, Five had been quick to cut him off. He’d never cared enough about whatever Diego was saying to wait for him to finish. Five had always been like that. Impatient. Always moving, always working.

But still, after another missed breakfast, after Vanya’s quiet inquiry as to whether anyone had seen Five and the resounding No, Diego found himself hovering outside Five’s door.

Swallowing down any nervousness, he knocks. Silence. 

Again. Nothing.

For a wild moment, Diego is struck by the idea that maybe Five left. He’d done what he came to do -- apocalypse averted, both of them. And as much as he would deny liking his brother, the idea coils in his stomach, and he feels sick.

“Five!” He bangs on the door this time. “C’mon, you little shit…”

The door swings open from under his hand.

“What the fuck do you want, Number Two?” Five hisses. 

Diego blinks at him, suddenly feeling foolish. “Uhh, you missed breakfast. Twice.”

Five stares at him like he’s never seen a bigger idiot, and Diego is struck by the fact that Five is wearing pajamas. He hasn’t seen Five in pajamas since when they were kids. It diminishes him, somehow, and Diego feels his nerves easing.

“Nice Pjs,” he adds.

Five scoffs, and the door starts to close. 

“Upp-upp, hey-” Diego grabs the door before it can close. “Calm down, Five.”

“I am calm.”

“Whatever, look, there’s leftovers downstairs. You should eat. You may be 50 or whatever, but your body’s 13 and you gotta start taking care of it. Have some eggs, protein.” Diego shudders at the thought of missing the most important meal of the day. 

There’s a weird expression on Five’s face that Diego can’t quite place. “I don’t need your mothering.” And he slams the door in his face.

Diego sighs. “Love you too, bro.” 

\---

Breakfast has become a bit of a tradition over the past couple days. Diego will come down, try to cook something healthy for once, and Klaus will intervene with insistence on waffles or pancakes or something equally sweet. Vanya will try to make peace and suggest they have both. Luther will do his I’m-Number-One voice and demand they make peace. And Allison will laugh and help both Diego and Klaus in the kitchen, successfully averting any fires to date.

Ben likes it. There’s a warmth to the academy that hasn’t been there in a long time -- maybe ever been there. A homeyness. 

But it doesn’t quite feel right. He can imagine Five here, making a black coffee, rolling his eyes at his siblings’ fighting and calling them idiots. He’d missed Five. As a child, he’d felt his absence acutely. 

A few times, soon after Five’s disappearance, he’d joined Vanya in making sandwiches, confident in the idea that his brother was making his way back home. When months passed, though, that faith dissolved. 

His brother was a genius, and he enjoyed shoving it into all of their faces constantly. And so, Ben had every belief in his brother’s ability to return. The fact that he didn’t meant, in his mind, that he didn’t want to. They weren’t important enough to be worth returning to.

Meanwhile, Five was stuck in the apocalypse, desperately trying to return, hoping his siblings knew he was doing everything he could. 

It felt like a betrayal.

When they sit down to eat, Vanya voices his concern. “Anyone seen Five?”

Conversation pauses at the table.

“Saw him yesterday,” Diego says, looking up from his eggs. “Slammed the door in my face, but seemed normal.”

Vanya frowns, a concerned expression covering her face.

“Check on him,” Ben demands, staring down Klaus.

Klaus groans. “Lil’ Fivey’s probably fine, and I’m not trying to get stabbed today.”

“Klaus, no one’s seen him come out of his room in three days.”

“He can teleport. We probably just missed the little bugger.” Klaus shoves more pancake into his mouth. “He’s-” he swallows “- probably just avoiding us.”

“Klaus, come on, when do I ask you for anything?”

“All the time. Your nagging is neverending”

“I’m dead. I would do it myself, but guess what? I can’t.”

“Fine!” Klaus stands, the chair scraping against the floor and drawing his siblings stares. “Never fear, Vanya dear, I will heroically face our littlest brother for your peace of mind.”

“Are you really the best one for that?” Allison asks, glancing him up and down.

Luther nods -- agreeing with Allison, surprise, surprise -- “Yeah, maybe Vanya-”

“Ben says I should go. Wouldn’t want to upset our dead bro, right?”

Ben scowls at Klaus. “You can’t just use me to win argu-”

Klaus shushes him. 

“Thank you, Klaus,” Vanya says with a gentle smile.

Ben sighs. “Grab him a coffee, he’ll appreciate that.”

And that’s that.

\---

Klaus had never been overly close to Five. Back in the day, Klaus had been too busy being the family fuck-up, and Five had been too busy rubbing his superiority in everyone’s faces. But there had been moments of brotherhood, of Five actually admitting to caring about his family.

Klaus remembers the one time Five blinked into the mausoleum, the way his face paled and the scared way he said, “Klaus?” And Five had tensed and stood stiff when Klaus latched onto him, but he didn’t blink away or push him off. He waited with him until the morning, only leaving when their father finally returned.

A part of Klaus had never forgiven him for that -- for giving him hope that things could be better only to abandon all of them and disappear the next week.

Knowing what actually happened makes him feel worse, somehow.

The scent of coffee wafts up to his nose. Personally, Klaus would have added a few tablespoons of sugar and cream, but to each their own. 

“Oh, Fivey, dear, it’s your favorite brothers!” Klaus rapped against the door with his free hand, shooting a glance at Ben. “If he stabs me, it’s your fault,” he mutters.

He knocks again, repeatedly, starting to wonder if Five was even here.

The door swings open. “What do you idiots want now?”

Klaus stares, wondering if maybe Ben had been right about Five never leaving his room. Five’s hair was mussed, his body drowning in an oversized pair of pajamas. His face pale and drawn, Five’s eyes squinted at him from dark circles.

“You look like shit,” Klaus notes. 

“And you look like a homeless magician.”

Ben snorts.

“Okay, rude.” Klaus sighs longsufferingly. “And to think I came all this way to bring you coffee.”

Fives eyes dart to the mug. He reaches for it, but Klaus pulls it away. “Wait a minute there, Five-o, what’s going on? Someone seems to be avoiding his family.”

Five glares. “Nothing is going on just because I have better things to do. Now hand it over.”

“Five-”

“Klaus, I swear to god, I will-”

“What could you possibly be doing?” Klaus spreads his arms. “It’s over, short-stack. No apocalypse, just the normal mess of a world.”

Five freezes, his hands tensing by his sides. For a moment, Klaus thinks his eyes might look suspiciously bright.

The door slams.

Klaus flinches.

Ben frowns. “You’re supposed to be helping him, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. He is not qualified for this. “Listen, just.. come to breakfast tomorrow, okay? Otherwise we’re just going to keep showing up and annoying you. Please? For me?”

Silence.

Allison was right; Vanya should’ve been the one to do this. Klaus sighs, staring down into the dark depths of the coffee. It’s getting cold now.

He sets it outside the door anyway.

\---

Five stares down the mug. It sits innocently on his side table, empty. A reminder.

He’d never agreed to go to breakfast, and there isn’t anything he would less want to do. He groans. God, he hates his siblings.

He blinks down at around half past nine and finds himself in the middle of chaos.

“Jesus, you’re burning them!” Klaus waves a baking sheet at the stovetop, where smoke wafts off a few black circles that might have once been pancakes. “I trusted you.” 

Diego smirks. “Oops,” he says innocently, using a spatula to fry a few eggs. “Guess we’ll have a healthy breakfast for once.”

“Five?”

He turns to find Luther staring at him, surprise and almost relief painting his face. “Haven’t seen you in a bit.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got better things to do than hang around with you assholes.”

But he sits down with them anyway, pretends not to notice how relieved Vanya looks when she comes down and sees him sitting at the table. Pretends not to hear Klaus gloating to thin air about how he managed to convince Five to eat with them.

Diego slides a plate full of eggs and the only unburnt pancake in front of him. 

Klaus groans. “C’mon, I wanted that.”

Diego pretends not to hear him. “So,” he says as he sits, “what’ve you been up to up there that’s got you so busy? Another apocalypse we should know about?”

Fives hand clenches around his knife. “Nothing you could understand,” he hisses, and ignores the fact that doing absolutely nothing for days was something even Diego could comprehend. He uses his fork to stab a chunk of egg with more force than necessary.

“I haven’t seen you in days,” Vanya says, her soft voice forcing Five’s eyes from his plate. “Five… I mean, isn’t this what you were working towards? Us being a family again?”

He swallows. “No. I just wanted you all alive.” He’d spent his whole life fantasizing about this. About coming home, seeing his family alive and happy. About being able to slide back into his role as brother. To be happy.

But he’s not happy. 

And there’s no apocalypse to blame this time.

He’d always felt energy thrumming through him. Not just because of his powers, but because of a drive. A goal. First, it was survival, then the missions, then the apocalypse. But now, there’s nothing.

A tense silence falls over the table, only broken by the scraping of silverware on plates.

“Five,” Allison says eventually, her voice uncertain. A far cry from the narcissistic sister of his youth. “Do you want to come shopping with me?”

Five blinks. “What?”

“You know, for clothes.” She seems almost embarrassed. “I’m sure you probably want something other than the old uniform, and we have time now.”

“Time? There’s no time, I can’t just-” He cuts himself off. He feels the gaze of his siblings on him. “I have things I need to take care of,” he says instead. 

“Like what, Five?” Luther stares him down. “If you’re hiding something again-”

“Oh, fuck off, Luther,” Five hisses, hand tightening around his butter knife.

“If it affects us, we deserve to know.” Luther frowns. “I thought things were over now. If they aren’t, then we need to come together, as a team-”

“Luther.” Allison places a hand on his arm. “I don’t think… I don’t think there’s anything going on.” She gives Five a look. Pity.

Five looks away. He hates it.

Luther just looks confused, glancing between Five and Allison like he’ll be able to see whatever connection she made.

“You know,” Klaus interjects after a pause. “I’ve been needing some new skirts. What’d’ya say, old man? Family shopping trip?”

“Fine,” Five says before he can regret it. Anything to get them to shut up.

Allison blinks, a small smile growing on her face. “Great! We can go after breakfast.”

Vanya brightens. “I’ll come too.”

“Count me in,” Diego says around a mouthful of eggs. 

“We aren’t going to a fetish shop, brother dear,” Klaus drawls. A butter knife lodges itself in the wall behind him. “Uncalled for!”

Five has many regrets.

After picking at his food for half an hour, he gets in the car with all his siblings anyway, pressing his face against the front passenger window and watching the cars go by. He pretends he doesn’t feel his siblings’ gazes flickering towards him every minute or so.

\---

The store Allison takes them to is nice -- an upscale men’s boutique, complete with children’s clothing. Five’s stomach twists at the idea of having to browse the boy’s section, but he admits that Allison chose well.

The store specializes in suits and dress clothes. Any other store would be full of T-shirts with dumb cartoons and slogans plastered on the front. Five would saw off his right arm before he wore something like that.

Klaus sighs, lifting up the arm of a plain white dress shirt. “Ugh, could this get any more boring? C’mon, where’s the pizzazz?” He grabs a sweater anyway -- a simple black one with crimson embellishments -- and shoves it at Five. “Here, old man. Shouldn’t offend your antiquated taste too much.”

Five scowls at him, grudgingly lifting the sweater up to inspect it. “It’s… acceptable. Perhaps you do have a brain cell or two.”

Klaus grins. “You hear that Diego?” he yells across the store, drawing the attention of everyone in the store. “Fivey liked something I chose!” 

Diego flips him off.

Allison sighs. “Knock it off Klaus, do you want us to get kicked out?” She turns to Five, holding out a selection of folded sweaters, button-downs, and slacks. “Here. Maybe you’ll like some of these?” 

The way Allison looks at Five makes his skin crawl. It’s too kind. Too mothering. But it’s genuine. “I can pick my own clothes, you know. I’m not a child.” He takes them anyway, setting them on the bench beside him.

“I know,” she says, sighing. “But you aren’t. I’m just trying to help.”

He’s loath to admit that maybe he can’t pick his own clothes. First, the umbrella academy uniform, then whatever he could scrounge up in the wasteland of the apocalypse, and then commission supplied suits. But Five knows how to do everything. He could pick his own clothes, he’s sure. If he tried.

He doesn’t try. Instead, he allows his siblings to pile clothes onto the bench. They seem eager to help, so he lets them. He’s doing them a favor.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he says when Diego adds another belt to the pile. “No one needs this many clothes.”

“It’s not like you’re going to keep all of them,” Diego says, eying a pure black button-down. “Gotta try ‘em on first.”

Right. Five blinks. He didn’t think of that. 

“Here.” Luther steps forward, takes the pile off the bench. “There’s a fitting room right over there.”

“I can carry them myself,” Five says, but his voice is dull, lacking its usual spite, and the pile is half his height. He follows Luther anyway.

He finds himself standing in the fitting room stall, Luther hovering outside the door. 

Mechanically, he removes his shirt and stares himself down, taking in his smaller, younger appearance. He’s avoided looking at himself since he came back. The body feels foreign to him. Too small, too young. 

His scars are gone. Everything he went through, wiped away to leave soft smooth skin. It’s not him.

He starts trying on clothes.

After a few minutes, Luther clears his throat from outside. Five’s hands stutter in their buttoning.

“You know, I… um, while you were gone…” Luther trails off, uncertain. For all his bravado, Five thinks Luther is his least confident brother. “I just, I know it’s hard. Being in a body that isn’t your own, isn’t right.” He laughs, but it sounds broken and hollow. “I’m sure you’ve noticed I look like a… a freak, now. An ape.”

Five isn’t sure he’s breathing.

“I got hurt a while back -- I mean, after you were gone, obviously. Almost died, and Dad-- he had some serum. He had to use it to save me, but there were side effects. And now… when I look in the mirror, I just see a monster. I don’t see me, I just see all my failures, everything that’s gone wrong in my life, and I just…” Luther sighs, breathes deeply. “I don’t know, Five. I know it’s not the same. I just hope you know, when we look at you, we just see our brother. Maybe not a 50-year-old man, sure, but not some kid either. Just… you.”

Five stands there for a long moment, listening to Luther breathe. He finishes buttoning the shirt and throws a sweater -- Klaus’s pick -- over his head. He throws the door open.

Luther jumps, staring at Five.

“What do you think?”

“It-uh-” Luther blinks, looking baffled for a moment, before his face smooths into a smile. “Looks good, Five.”

He asks for Luther’s opinion on all the rest of the clothes he tries on. If Luther says, “Looks good,” for all of them, then, well, Five doesn’t mention it.

\---

Allison looks extremely pleased with herself when they leave the store with shopping bags in tow. She’d agreed to pay for everything, which while he didn’t like accepting charity, Five was grateful for. It was hard to have money when you were legally dead.

However, getting back home proved to be an issue.

“Ugh, can Luther sit in the front this time?” Klaus whined. “There’s barely enough room back here. Plus I want to sit with my littlest bro. Family bonding.”

“I’m older than-”

Klaus waves him off. “Physically littlest.”

“It does make the most sense,” Diego admits, glancing between Five and Luther.

The idea of being squished between Klaus and Diego makes Five physically recoil. He swallows. But Five is not a coward, and he isn’t scared of sitting in the middle seat. He’s not a child. “Fine, whatever, let’s just get out of here.”

Klaus cheers, throwing himself into the backseat with enough force to shake the car. 

Five fights his instinct to jump away and forces himself into the car. Diego slides in after him, his leg pressing against Five’s, and he twitches away. He presses himself together, trying to make himself as small as possible, but he can’t manage to not touch his siblings no matter how hard he tries.

“You good there, Fivey?” Klaus peers at him, brow furrowed, as Allison pulls the car out the parking space.

“Just fine,” Five bites out.

He’s never been one for physical contact. Even pre-apocalypse, he wouldn’t tolerate open displays of affection. After he left, though, he started to yearn for the easy affection of his siblings. Brushing against Diego in the kitchen. Vanya tapping him on the shoulder. Luther patting him on the back. 

He’d never really realized how often they touched each other. Or how much he could miss it.

But once he’d reached the commission, things changed. He didn’t long for contact. He saw people every day. Just, in this case, he only ever really touched anyone to kill them. Touch reminded him of blood. Of wild frenzy. Of holding an axe and chopping off a woman’s arm. Of blood spattering all over his face and clothes, hot and sticky and cloying. Of laughing at people’s screams and bringing a knife down -

He jumps.

He falls, tumbling, into a ditch on the side of the road. He pushes himself onto his knees, blinking at the dirt. 

He thinks he should leave. He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t know how to be here. He doesn’t know how to be happy.

How to live and not just survive.

How to touch and not kill.

Tires are screeching.

He wants to leave, but he doesn’t know where to go. A part of him always dreamed of just appearing back on the day he left and pretending nothing changed. Growing up with his siblings and leading as normal a life as a member of the Umbrella Academy could have.

But he’s not a child -- he knows that dreams don’t come true. 

The car pulls to a stop next to him, and doors are being thrown open.

“Five, Jesus Christ, what were you thinking?” Diego squats down next to him.

Five blinks at him.

“Are you- are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he says dully. “Just car sick.” He stands, brushing himself off.

They’re all hovering around him, nervous, unsure. 

Klaus laughs uneasily. “Right, yeah, carsick. I always jump out a moving vehicle when I get a bit queasy.” He stares at the air next to him for a minute and sighs, stepping forward. “Five…” He pauses, making a face. “What’s going on?”

Five takes a small step back. “Nothing, you insufferable-”

Allison’s looking at him like he’s a child again. “We just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” he says like he’s reciting from a script. There’s nothing for them to help with. He’s fine. The world’s fine. It all worked out, and everything is perfect now.

After a pause, he shoves past them into the car.

They say nothing about him moving to the front seat.

\---

Klaus sighs, staring at the ceiling as Ben paces beside him. As soon as they’d arrived home, Five had jumped up to his room, leaving them all in awkward silence until they parted ways.

“You have to talk to him,” Ben says, staring him down. 

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what our little Five wants.”

“It’s not about what he wants!” Ben throws his hands in the air. “It’s about what he needs. He feels alone. He’s spent his whole life working towards saving us, and now he doesn’t know what to do…” 

Klaus wants to help his brother, he does, but Five is… complicated. Difficult. And while Klaus is no stranger to being mentally unstable, Five’s brand of crazy feels a bit more than he’s equipped to handle. He doesn’t know how to help without making anything worse and pissing his brother off in the process. 

But he saw Five’s face when he was kneeling by the side of the road. He could practically feel the emptiness in his gaze.

He knows what it feels like to have your reason to live taken from you. To feel the emptiness creeping in until living feels like a pointless, monotonous chore.

He sits up, realization striking. “You do it.”

Ben pauses his pacing. “What?”

“You talk to him. You guys were close, right? And he hasn’t seen you long enough to realize how annoying you are now.”

“You want me to-”

“Possess me, brother dear.”

Ben gapes.

Klaus wags a finger at him. “Only for helping our little bro, alright? No more, no less.”

“Thank you, oh my God, Klaus, thank you.” Ben grins.

Klaus realizes that this’ll be the first time Ben gets to speak to Five directly since he came back. So even as he feels sick at Ben taking control, he can’t find it in himself to regret it. 

\---

Five hates the ceiling. It’s old and cracked and reminds him of childhood. It’s unfortunate that staring at it has become his favorite hobby as of late.

He knows there’s things he could be doing. He doesn’t know everything. There are equations to be solved, secrets to uncover…

But he doesn’t care.

There’s no purpose in it anymore. No purpose in him anymore. Everything’s okay now, there’s no time limit. No fire.

But that’s all Five is good for. Getting things done. Accomplishing his mission.

He wants to scream.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Five?”

“Go away, Klaus.”

“No, it’s not -- it’s not Klaus.”

Five stares at the door. It’s definitely Klaus -- he may have lost something, but he hasn’t lost his hearing. 

He jumps to the door anyway, pulling it open to reveal…

Klaus.

He levels an unimpressed look at his brother. “Ah right, not Klaus at all. My mistake.”

“No, Five, it’s me- Ben. I can possess people, remember?”

Five freezes.

Ben, he thinks, is his worst failure. If he’d showed up earlier, figured out the equations properly, he could have saved all of them -- not just five of his siblings.

He remembers when he first found out. He’d been holding onto hope the whole time that one day, he’d run into Ben and Vanya and that together they could go back and save the world. He’d been a dumb child. 

Then he found The Book. It had been the only excitement he’d felt since landing in that wasteland. His sister’s face. Details about all his siblings, what he’d missed. He’d read the pages, drinking in every detail he could, picturing every scene in his head. He didn’t care that it wasn’t a happy tale -- he just wanted to know his family. To know what happened.

And then there was Ben’s chapter.

Nothing ever revealed what happened to Vanya or if she was still alive, but it didn’t matter. Five never hoped again.

“I’m sorry.”

It takes Five a minute to realize that it’s him who spoke.

Klaus- Ben - blinks. “I- what? For what?”

“Nothing, nevermind.” Five looks away. “What do you want?”

Ben stares at him for a long moment, then steps forward.

Five freezes, but it’s too late- he feels Ben’s arms wrap around him.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, going tense and still.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Ben admits, maintaining the hug while keeping it loose. Five could jump if he wasn’t frozen in shock. “But something is.”

“How many times do I have to tell you useless morons -- nothing is going on.”

“And that’s the problem?”

Five’s breath stutters in his chest.

“I don’t imagine you’ve ever had any time to focus on anything other than the apocalypse.”

“I…” Five swallows. He thinks he should deflect or leave or anything else, but this is Ben. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here anymore.”

Ben laughs. “Yeah, join the club.” He pulls back to look Five in the eyes. “You know, I never planned on being here this long after I died. I just stayed because I was scared, and then suddenly it was too late. I… I know there’s no real point to me being here anymore. Klaus is clean, and no one else can even see me. I just sort of…” he waves a hand “... exist. This isn’t where I’m supposed to be, but this is how things are, you know? You don’t always need some defined purpose. Sometimes it’s okay to just exist and try to make the best of what you’ve got.”

Ben sighs and pulls five back in. “Everyone’s really glad you’re back. And it’s okay if you don’t know how to deal with that, or don’t know how to handle not having anything to handle. Just… we’re all here for you, you know? Maybe you don’t need help. Maybe you do, but we can’t give it. But everyone’s trying.”

Five brings up a hesitant hand, resting against Ben’s back, thoughts whirring through his head. “I’m trying too,” he says at last.

“I know. We all do.”

\---

Five appears in the kitchen the next morning, wearing a mix of clothes picked out by his siblings. 

Diego and Klaus look up from their bickering.

Five smells smoke and sighs. “You idiots need some help?” 

And as he bickers with his brothers over breakfast, he thinks maybe he’ll be able to figure out this whole “normal life” thing. One day.

But in the meantime, at least he has family.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in like 5 years, but hope you guys enjoyed anyway!


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